If I Gave It All Away
by Singing Daisy
Summary: A girl comes into the station house and reports a rape. No one can get her to say the name of her attacker except Munch. Chapter Seven now up. FINISHED. Sequel Coming
1. Chapter One

A/N: This fic has Munch a little more in character than my other fics do. I really hope Nellie doesn't seem like a Mary-Sue, but if she does, please tell me and I'll fix it. All feedback is welcome and appreciated!  
  
August 9, 2004  
  
Munch's Apartment  
  
3:30 A.M.  
  
John Munch awoke early to the ringing of his cell phone. He reached onto his bedside table and brought the phone to his ear, groggily. "This had better be big."  
  
"Nice to talk to you, too, John," said a familiar laughing voice on the other end of the line.  
  
"Stabler, it's three thirty in the morning. I have an odd feeling you didn't call to say how are you."  
  
"No, in fact, this is business. A girl came in about an hour ago and reported that someone raped her. We took her to the hospital, and she gave us every detail except the name of her attacker. Cragen wants you to try to get it out of her."  
  
"Why? Doesn't that seem a little harsh to you?"  
  
"We don't want you to interrogate her, just talk to her," Elliot explained. "She knows who it is, she's just not telling us. You know how much easier are jobs would be if she tells us."  
  
Munch sighed. "Fine. What's the girl's name?"  
  
"Nellie Rivers."  
  
"How old?" Munch asked. He had a feeling that he wouldn't like the answer.  
  
"Only thirteen."  
  
"God damn it." Munch shook his head.  
  
"You're telling me. I keep picturing her as Lizzie or Kathleen," Elliot said, with a slight shudder in his voice. "Cragen told me to order you down to the hospital in half an hour or less."  
  
"What ever the captain says. Oh, and before you go?"  
  
"Yeah?"  
  
"If you ever call me this early in the morning again, I'm going to shove my cell phone up your ass," Munch threatened. Elliot just laughed.  
  
"Dually noted. See ya in a few." Click.  
  
Hospital  
  
4:00 A.M.  
  
Elliot looked up as Munch entered the waiting area. It was on the third floor of the hospital. "She's in with Olivia," he told him, motioning with his head to a closed door across the hallway.  
  
"Have you all talked to her?" Munch asked.  
  
"Me, Olivia, and Cragen. Fin's not in yet. He's the last resort." Elliot gave Munch a knowing smile.  
  
"To think I used to be the last resort," Munch reminisced, sarcastically. "How the years fly when you're questioning witnesses."  
  
Elliot chuckled a little as Munch passed him, walking into the room.  
  
Olivia sat next to the bed of a small teenage girl with moussy brown hair. Her eyes were tear stained, the left one had signs of swelling, She breathed heavily, as if willing herself not to cry. Her head snapped nervously in his direction as Munch entered the room.  
  
Olivia stood up when she saw him. "Nellie, this is my friend, John. He's going to talk to you for a while. Okay?"  
  
"Doesn't matter to me," the girl said with a shrug. Olivia gave Munch a good-luck look and left. Munch sat down in her chair.  
  
"Hey, Nellie," he greeted as kindly as he could. "I heard about what happened."  
  
"I figured," she said, angirly, "or you wouldn't be in here. What I DIDN'T know was that the detective I told would broadcast the fact that I was RAPED to the GOD DAMN WORLD!"  
  
Munch didn't even bat an eyelash at this sudden outburst. He was used to it. Instead, he said, reasonably, "I'm in the unit that's trying to help you. A total of five people, including me, know about your attack. That's not all that much."  
  
"Yeah, well, that's four more people than I told, isn't it?" she said, glaring.  
  
"Who did you originally talk to?"  
  
"The guy with the girls' name," Nellie told him. "Ellen or something dumb like that."  
  
"His name's Elliot," Munch said, excersising great self control not to laugh, or show that he was amused at all. "And what do you propose he was supposed to do about your attack if he didn't tell anybody?"  
  
"WILL YOU STOP SAYING I WAS ATTACKED?!" she shouted, clenching her fists. "Somebody raped me, he didn't beat me up! And I... just let him..."  
  
She looked down at the bedsheets and drew her knees up under her chin.  
  
"This wasn't your fault, Nellie," Munch consoled. Her head snapped back up to glare at him.  
  
"Do I look stupid to you?" she asked, rhetorically. "I know very well that this is that jackass's fault. But it's MY fault I didn't punch him in the nose... or struggle at all..."  
  
She looked away.  
  
"Well, when we arrest this guy, I'll hit his head on the squad car for you... accidentally, of course," Munch promised. He saw her smile a little. "But in order to do that, we need his name."  
  
"I didn't tell those other cops," she spat, her smile retreating. "What makes you think you're any different?"  
  
Munch leaned forward. "I don't have a girl's name."  
  
Nellie smiled in spite of herself and looked at him for a while. Finally, she said, "You're right. You are different. You're like me."  
  
"How's that?"  
  
"We're both smartasses." Munch knew the other detectives would have a good laugh over that one if they found out.  
  
"Me? A smartass? I prefer witty with a bubbling charm."  
  
"Well, I'd prefer to be at the zoo right now," Nellie teased, "but ain't life a bitch."  
  
Munch gave a small smile, but moved on.  
  
"We aren't here to compare notes, kid, and no matter how much I love being called a smartass by a thirteen-year-old who is obviously an expert on the subject, I have a job to do."  
  
Nellie smiled sadly. "Too bad. I was having fun talking to you. And I don't want to disappoint you."  
  
"Why would you disappoint me?"  
  
Nellie shook her head. "I don't know if I could bring myself to say his name."  
  
"Well, you take your time, okay? We have all the time in the world."  
  
"He was... so nice, when I first met him," she began. "Then they got married and it all... turned around."  
  
"Who got married?" Munch asked, kindly, trying not to pressure her too much. Nellie sighed.  
  
"Him and my mom," she told him. "The guy who did this... was my... stepfather. Jeff Grey." 


	2. Chapter Two

  
  
August 9, 2004  
  
The Station House  
  
4:15 A.M.  
  
Munch was slightly taken aback, but before he could say anything, Nellie continued, this time with avengance.  
  
"He was so great when he and Mom were dating! He took me places, bought me stuff. He even gave me advice... Then as soon as the honeymoon's over, I become his personal whore!"  
  
"How often has he done this to you, Nellie?"  
  
"Every other weekend... that's how often I'm over there..." she answered, sniffing. "I live with my dad most of the time."  
  
"Why'd you come forward today, Nellie?" Munch asked. "Did he do something different?"  
  
"Last night," Nellie started, taking a deep breath, "was the year anniversary of the day he started raping me."  
  
Munch's breath caught in his throat. She'd been doing this for a year? Munch had a sudden urge to slam her stepdad's head into a brick wall, but he couldn't. He had to keep questioning, though it nearly killed him to do so.  
  
"Do you have any siblings?" he asked.  
  
"Two. My little brother, James, and his twin sister, Laila."  
  
"Did he ever touch them?" Nellie's eyes narrowed.  
  
"Why the hell do you think I put up with it night after night?" she asked, bitterly. "He said if I struggled, he'd rape Laila and kill her and James. Every night before he'd leave, he'd stand in the doorway and say I'd saved them for two more weeks."  
  
Bastard, Munch thought, savagely. He watched the girl in front of him and wondered, not for the first time, how anyone could destroy a little girl's life so easily. Munch thought of a question, but he was slightly afraid of what the answer might be. Part of him didn't even want to know. He decided to ask it anyways.  
  
"Nellie, how old are James and Laila?" he asked, still watching her closely.  
  
"They're only six!" she cried, her eyes brimming with tears. She looked at him earnestly. "How could he do that? How could anyone do that?"  
  
Munch shook his head. "I don't think I ever want to know."  
  
The Hospital Waiting Room  
  
7:00 A.M.  
  
Olivia, Elliot, and Fin watched John while they awaited the results of the rape kit. He was staring at a magazine pretending to read, but his eyes weren't moving. The three detectives were slightly worried.  
  
Dr. Foster came out of Nellie's room. All four detectives stood, none faster than Munch.  
  
"What've we got to work with, Doc?" Fin asked.  
  
"All the sperm is there. Very bad vaginal bruising. No restraint bruising, which is a little odd, but as I'm sure you noticed, she has a black eye that's going to swell pretty bad without meds." Foster shook his head. "I hate getting them so young. When you find this guy, tell your D.A. to give him hell in the courtroom."  
  
"Will do, Doctor," Elliot assured as his phone rang. He picked it up. "Stabler... The doctor says she was... Yes, we do, plenty... All right, I'll tell them."  
  
Elliot hung up and turned to the detectives. Foster had left. "That was Cragen. He wants me and Olivia to go tell the father. Munch, Fin, you have to pick up Grey."  
  
"Just a sec, I'm gonna go tell Nellie we got him," Munch told them, and disappeared into her room.  
  
"You think he's getting too attached?" Olivia asked, worriedly.  
  
"He's Munch, he'll be fine," Elliot assured her. Olivia shook her head, not convinced.  
  
"I don't know. He was pretty upset when that reporter he got close to died. You think he'd be able to handle it if something happened to Nellie?"  
  
"Nothing's going to happen," Fin announced, decidedly. "I'll make sure of that. For his sake."  
  
"How are you going to do that?" asked Elliot, slightly bemused.  
  
"I dunno," Fin admitted, "but he's my partner, I'll find a way."  
  
Jeff Grey's Townhouse  
  
7:30 A.M.  
  
Munch knocked on the door of a well kept townhouse. A woman answered. She had her hair tied back in a bandana and she was holding a spritzer bottle of cleaning fluid.  
  
"Can I help you?" she asked.  
  
"Are you Mrs. Charmaine Grey?" Munch asked, flashing his badge. She became flustered.  
  
"Yes, yes I am. Is something wrong?" As an after thought she added, "Would you please come in?"  
  
They followed her into the house and to a tidy living room, where she told them they could sit. They did.  
  
"What happened?" she asked, after the polite formalities were out of the way.  
  
"Mrs. Grey, I'm sorry to have to tell you this," Fin began. "Your daughter reported a rape to us this morning."  
  
"Nell did?"  
  
"Nellie did, yes," Mnch confirmed, wondering why the woman pronounced her daughter's name differently than everyone else.  
  
As if to answer his unasked question, Mrs. Grey explained, almost regally, "It is in my family's tradition to have semi-aristocratic names, if you will. I named my daughter Nell. She goes by Nellie because she knows it reminds me of a pack mule."  
  
"Actually, I believe horses are frequently called Nellie, not pack mules, but I see your point," Munch answered. "Mrs. Grey, is your husband home? We'd like to speak to him, please."  
  
"No, he's at the office. Baynes and Grey Reality on Fifth and Main," Mrs. Grey told them. "Is Nell in the hospital? I'd like to see her when I get this cleaning done."  
  
"Yeah, you should be able to get into her room, Mrs. Grey," Fin answered, politely. She nodded, absentmindedly.  
  
"If that's all, Detectives, I need to get this cleaning done... I think..."  
  
"Actually, there's one more question," Munch said. "Does your husband ever get up in the middle of the night?"  
  
"Frequently. He gets hungry."  
  
"Thank you for your time," Fin said. The two detectives left the townhouse.  
  
As they stepped off the front stoop, Fin sensed his partner's anger. He knew Munch was growing attached to Nellie, and John hated himself for not getting Grey at the house.  
  
"You did good with Nellie this morning," Fin said, trying, in his own little way, to comfort his partner.  
  
"Yeah, making thirteen-year-old rape victims cry is the highlight of my day."  
  
"You did your job, John."  
  
"Sometimes I hate my job."  
  
Matthew Rivers's Apartment  
  
7:30 A.M.  
  
"I hate telling the parents," Elliot muttered as he rang the doorbell. Olivia nodded in agreement. A few seconds later, a man, mildly handsome with a charming smile, answered the door.  
  
"Hey, there," he greeted, cheerily. "What can I do ya for?"  
  
"Matthew Rivers?" Olivia asked, taking out her badge. The man nodded, the cheeriness retreating from his eyes and face. "I'm Detective Benson, this is Detective Stabler. May we come in?"  
  
"Of course..." he agreed, leading them to a small living room where two brown haired children played and watched a cartoon. They looked up with big, blue eyes as they entered.  
  
"James, Laila, why don't you go play in your rooms, okay?" Matthew said. The children nodded and seemed to know it was important by the look on their father's face, because they left quickly.  
  
"Something happened to Nellie," Matthew said, motioning for them to sit down.  
  
"She came into the precinct very early this morning," Elliot said. "She reported that she had been raped."  
  
"Matthew stared at them, looking as though he would either cry, scream, or throw something at any moment but instead, thankfully, breathed deeply to calm himself. "D-did she say who did it?"  
  
"Yes," Olivia said. "Do you know Jeff Grey?"  
  
"Charmaine's husband?" he asked. His face fell into his hands. "I met him at their wedding! Nellie told me then she loved the guy! How could he betray her like this?"  
  
"Personally, I don't care why he did it," Elliot said. "The fact that he did it is enough for me."  
  
Matthew nodded shakily. "Good.. that's a good attitude."  
  
"Sir, we'd like to speak with James and Laila. Just to see if they saw or heard anything," Olivia said. Matthew nodded again.  
  
"Of course. Anything you need, Detectives. Anything at all. They should be in their rooms. Go on in." Olivia nodded and stood with Elliot  
  
"Thank you for your help," she said.  
  
"Anything you need," he said again. The detectives walked down the cmall hallway towards the twins' bedrooms, leaving Matthew still with his head in his hands.  
  
Baynes and Grey Reality  
  
7:45 A.M.  
  
Munch and Fin entered the tall office building. The only person in the lobby was a pretty, young secretary sitting behind a desk. She looked up at them as they walked toward her.  
  
"Baynes and Grey Reality, how can I help you gentlemen?" she greeted with a smile.  
  
"We need to speak with Mr. Grey, please," Munch said.  
  
"Do you have an appointment?" Fin showed her his badge.  
  
"I don't think we need one."  
  
"Well, he's in a meeting right now..."  
  
"Page him," Munch ordered, though not unkindly. The young woman smiled again and did as she was told. A minute or two later, a man's voice came out on the speaker phone.  
  
"Yes, Jean?"  
  
"Mr. Grey, I'm sorry to interrupt..."  
  
"It's no problem."  
  
"There are two gentlemen down here. They say they need to see you immediately." There was a pause.  
  
"Is it urgent?"  
  
"Tell him it is," Fin said. Jean relayed the message.  
  
"I'll be right down," he sighed. "Unless they'd rather come up."  
  
"It would be better if he came down," Munch said. Jean repeated this as well.  
  
"Right then. See you in a few."  
  
A few minutes later, a black haired man stepped out of the elevator. Spotting Munch and Fin, he walked over with a charming smile.  
  
"Hello. What can I do for you?"  
  
"You can come quietly," Munch told him. Grey looked in between the detectives and Jean, who shrugged in response.  
  
"What do you mean?" he asked, finally.  
  
"Jeef Grey, you are under arrest for the sexual assault of Miss Nellie Rivers. You have the right to remain silent..." 


	3. Chapter Three

  
Laila's Room, Rivers' Apartment  
  
7:45 A.M.  
  
Olivia walked into a room that seemed to be split in half. Half was painted dark purple and seemed to be a teenager's. There was a desk wih an I-Mac computer, turned off, a bed with sheets the same color as the wall, and pictures of various rock bands and actors taped tacked to a bulletin board. The bed wasn't made and there were articles of lcothing strewn across the floor.  
  
The other side of the room was painted bright pink, and there were shelves filled with toys and children's books. A small bed, made up in frilly white sheets, was pushed to the far corner. A white table with four white chairs was in the middle of the room. Laila sat at this table, coloring happily in a coloring book. Olivia walked over to her with a smile.  
  
"Hi, I'm Olivia," she introduced. "O'm one of Nellie's friends."  
  
"I'm Laila. I'm Nellie's bestest little sister," Laila responded, picking up a red crayon and scribbling over the page with it. Olivia's smile widened a little.  
  
"That's good, because I need to ask you a couple questions about her. Is that okay?"  
  
"All right."  
  
"Is this her room, too?"  
  
"Yeah, we share. But it's okay, she doesn't mind," Laila assured her. "She likes to share with me."  
  
"Because you're her favorite sister?"  
  
"Yep!" she piped up, happily.  
  
"Tell me about your family."  
  
"I have a mommy, and a brother, and Nellie, of course, and," her voice dropped to a whisper and she leaned forward, as if telling a secret, "I have two daddies."  
  
"Really?" Olivia said with child-like eagerness. "What's that like?"  
  
"It's fun! My daddies are really nice to me, and I get to have two houses."  
  
"That's neat. Do you like both you're daddies?"  
  
"Yeah, but I love this daddy most."  
  
"Why's that?"  
  
Laila shrugged. "Jeffie, my other daddy... Nellie doesn't like him anymore," she explained. "But I don't know why. He's real nice to me."  
  
"Do you share a room with Nellie at your other house?" Olivia asked.  
  
"No," Laila said, shaking her head. "Jeffie says Nellie needs dome time eo be sepitated from everyone else. But Nellie doesn't like being alone. She told me so."  
  
"Does she tell you a lot of things?"  
  
"Uh-huh!" Laila said proudly. "She says I'm her... um... com-fah-daint. But," she admitted, "I don't really know what that means."  
  
Olivia grinned. "Don't worry, it's something good." Laila beamed. "Laila, did Nellie ever give you a reason why she didn't like Jeff? Think real hard for me."  
  
Laila screwed up her face in dramatic concentration. "I... don't think so. But once, I woke up in the middle of the night, and Nellie was cryin'. When I asked her how come, she said, 'Jeff.' Just Jeff, like it esplained ev'rythin'! I told her, real tough like, to tell me ezacly what was goin' on, but she wouldn't." Laila heaved a great sigh, then tilted her head, curiously. "Are you gonna 'rrest him for makin' her cry?"  
  
Olivia winked. "We'll see."  
  
James's Room, Rivers Apartment  
  
Interrogation Room  
  
2:00 P.M.  
  
Elliot wandered into a small room painted blue with a bed, a blue toy chest, and a little boy sitting in the middle of the floor doing a puzzle. The walls were lined with shelves with other tows, and there was a ceiling fan with baseball bats on it. Elliot smiled at the sight of them. Dickie had begged him a couple years ago for one just like that...  
  
He turned his attention to the little boy.  
  
"Hey, James," he greeted. "I'm Elliot.  
  
"Hi," said the little boy. He motioned to the puzzle. "Wanna help?"  
  
Elliot smiled. "Sure, why not?"  
  
"Is your friend talking to Laila?"  
  
"Yep," Elliot confirmed. "Their talking about Nellie. I'm Nellie's friend."  
  
"Are we gonna talk about Nellie, too?" James asked, shyly.  
  
"Probably. Do you want to?"  
  
"She's my favorite sister... who's not a twin," he corrected. Elliot smiled again.  
  
"Do you live with Nellie?"  
  
"Yeah, she lives here and at my other dad's house."  
  
"Have you ever seen your stepdad... hurt her?"  
  
James dropped his puzzle piece and stared at him. His eyes were slightly fearful, but also defiant. Elliot immediately knew he had seen something. Before Elliot could ask anything, James blurted out, "I love her!"  
  
"That's good," Elliot said, kindly.  
  
"And she loves me."  
  
"Yes, she does," Elliot agreed. "Very much."  
  
"So, I'm not allowed to tell."  
  
"Tell what, James?"  
  
"She told me not to! I can't! She'll be mad at me!"  
  
"James, you could be helping her," Elliot persisted. "Besides, I'm her friend. It's okay if you tell me."  
  
"I'm not gonna get in trouble?"  
  
"No, sweetie, you won't."  
  
"Well... okay. I guess I can tell. It was a long time ago, though."  
  
"How long ago?"  
  
"Before last Christmas," James informed. "I 'member 'cause my mommy keeps our presents in Nellie's closet, and I was in there looking at them. Nellie caught me."  
  
"Did she get mad?"  
  
"No, she started laughing and said I was silly. But then somebody knocked on the door and she looked... strange."  
  
"Strange how?"  
  
"Um... worried. And scared."  
  
"What did she do next?"  
  
"She asked who it was and the person on the other side said something."  
  
"Do you remember what the person said?"  
  
"No, but it made Nellie more afraid. She told me to stay quiet and closed the closet door, but not all the way. I could see a little bit."  
  
"What did you see?"  
  
"Jeff, he's my other daddy, came in, and Nellie was scared. She kept saying something... 'Please, not again' or something like that. And Jeff just kept shaking his head and saying something like... like something mean, but I can't amember..."  
  
"That's okay."  
  
"But I do 'member, Jeff got really angry because Nellie was still saying no, and he pushed her onto the bed and she just layed there. And he started taking off his clothes."  
  
"What did you see next?" Elliot pressed.  
  
"Well, at first, I closed my eyes. You're not apposed to watch people take clothes off," he informed Elliot, as if Elliot had done just that. "But I opened them when I heard a noise."  
  
"What kind of noise?"  
  
"Like, the bed creaking."  
  
"What did you see when you opened your eyes, James?"  
  
"Jeff was on top of her, and they were moving up and down," James described. "It looked like they were wrestling, but I think he hurt her."  
  
"Why do you think that?"  
  
"Because she was crying. After a while, though, Jeff got off her and put his clothes back on. I watched that time. You're allowed to watch people put clothes on, you know," he told him.  
  
"Of course you are. You're not in trouble," Elliot said, smiling. "Do you remember anything else?"  
  
"Um... no... I don't think so... 'Cept that she told me not to tell, because she didn't want people to know she'd been cryin'."  
  
"All right, thanks, James," Elliot said. "You helped a lot."  
  
"Is Nellie gonna be okay?" he asked, shyly.  
  
"Yes," Elliot assured. "She's gonna be just fine."  
  
August 7, 2004  
  
The Hospital  
  
12:00 P.M.  
  
Munch was walking down the hallway toward Nellie's room when he heard someone yelling. As he ran closer, he caught the words, "... not going to sacrifice my marriage because my daughter's a whore!"  
  
When he got to the door, he ran into Chairmaine Grey leaving the room. He ignored her when he saw Nellie crying on her bed, her knees pulled up to her chest. He went to sit down next her.  
  
"What happened?" he asked. Nellie looked up at him.  
  
"Go away!" she cried.  
  
"Not until you tell me what happened."  
  
"I t-told Mom who did this to me," she began, still sobbing, "and she doesn't believe me! She doesn't believe her own daughter!"  
  
To Munch's surprise, she fell, as if collapsing, onto his chest. More as an instinct than anything else, Munch found his arms closing around her as he let her cry into his shoulder. They sat like that for a few minutes. The only sound in the room was Nellie's sobs.  
  
Nellie pulled away, wiping away a tear. "I'm sorry," she said.  
  
"Don't be."  
  
"Did you get him?" she asked, trying very hard to breathe evenly.  
  
"Yeah," John answered, "but he's not talking. We had him in the room for three hours, but his lawyer wouldn't let him speak at all."  
  
"Figures," Nellie said, sarcastically.  
  
"He's a coward," Munch told her. "We'll get him in court. We've got the D.N.A and your testimony, so..."  
  
"What do you mean, my testimony?" Munch looked at her, puzzled.  
  
"You're our lead witness, Nellie," Munch said. "I thought you knew you were going to testify."  
  
She thought about this for a moment before asked, slowly, "Will he be there?"  
  
"Yes, he'll be in the courtroom, but he won't be speaking to you."  
  
Nellie looked straight at his face, and for the first time since Munch had met her, there was nothing but fear in her eyes. It made her look younger and more innocent. John would have though helpless, but he had a feeling she was anything but.  
  
"I don't know if I can do that, John," she said, her lip quivering, slightly.  
  
"Hey, Nellie, it's gonna be all right," Munch assured. "I'll talk with the People's Attourney, see if we can make a case without your testimony."  
  
"Y-you'd do that?" she asked. He nodded. "Why?"  
  
"Well, it would make my life easier," he explained. "I wouldn't have to argue with you."  
  
Nellie grinned. "Well, I am on the debate team."  
  
"So I'm never going to get you t do anything, am I?" he joked.  
  
She laughed. "Nope, not if I can help it." 


	4. Chapter Four

  
  
August 7  
  
The Station House  
  
12:00 P.M. (noon)  
  
Elliot passed John in the hallway as he was heading home for a quick lunch with his family. Munch caught his shoulder.  
  
"How'd it go talking to the dad and siblings?" he asked.  
  
"One of the twins witnessed a rape," Elliot said, sighing.  
  
"I'm not sure if I'm happy or upset about that," Munch said.  
  
"I know what you mean."  
  
"Which one?"  
  
"Huh?"  
  
"Which kid saw it?"  
  
"Oh, the boy. James." Elliot looked at him. "What does it matter which one saw it?"  
  
"Why do you think Nellie didn't tell us her brother saw one?"  
  
Elliot raised an eyebrow. "What does that matter? We got it now. She didn't have to tell us."  
  
"Would have been easier..."  
  
"Yeah, it would have," Elliot agreed. "But we have this guy, John. He's going to jail for the rest of his life. It doesn't matter what would have happened."  
  
"I guess you're right," Munch sighed, just as his beeper went off. He checked the number. He didn't recognize it, but the name before it was Rivers.  
  
"It's Nellie. I'll see what she wants, then I'm going to lunch. I'm starving."  
  
"Don't tell me, tell Cragen," Elliot ordered. "I'm going home for lunch today. Lizzie made it."  
  
"Oh, yum," Munch smirked. Elliot nodded and smiled. "See ya after, then."  
  
"Yeah."  
  
Munch left Elliot and walked to his desk where he picked up his phone and dialed the number on his pager.  
  
"John?" said a sniffing voice on the other end.  
  
"Nellie? I got your page. Did something happen?"  
  
"N-no. I just.. you said I could call you if I.. needed to talk."  
  
"And I meant what I said," Munch agreed. He leaned forward and put his elbows on the desk. "So tell me your troubles, the doctor is in."  
  
"Well, um, my dad took James and Laila out for ice cream, and I didn't want to go. I don't really like ice cream..."  
  
"You don't like ice cream?" Munch said, amazed. "Well, there's your problem. No kid doesn't like ice cream."  
  
"Well, I don't," Nellie laughed.  
  
"She's nuts..." Munch muttered, just loud enough for Nellie to hear. She giggled again.  
  
Fin walked up from behind his partner. "Who's nuts?"  
  
"On the phone, Fin," Munch said, holding his hand up to the receiver. "It could be business."  
  
"You were talking about ice cream," Fin argued. "It's not business."  
  
"No, it's not," Munch admitted. "But it might have been."  
  
"Fin?" Nellie asked.  
  
"Huh?"  
  
"Were you talking to Fin?"  
  
"Yeah, but don't mind him," Munch said, giving Fin a smirk. "He lost his brain on the highway on the way in this morning."  
  
Fin just rolled his eyes.  
  
"So, anything else wrong, besides the fact that you're the only child I know who doesn't like ice cream?" Munch asked.  
  
"Yeah, but, I think you can do the math," Nellie prompted. "My dad took the twins out for ice cream and that would make me..."  
  
"Home alone," Munch realized. "Gotcha. And you're scared?"  
  
"I'm not scared!" she contradicted. "I was... uncomfortable."  
  
"Sure you were," Munch said, sarcastically.  
  
"You don't believe me."  
  
"Did I say that?"  
  
"You didn't have to," Nellie teased. "Just because you wear those sunglasses all the time doesn't mean I can't read you like a book."  
  
"You're thirteen," John said.  
  
"And you're a hundred and nine," Nellie joked. "Doesn't mean I don't know exactly what you're thinking."  
  
"So, what am I thinking?"  
  
"You're thinking that I'm not going to guess what you're thinking."  
  
Munch sighed. "All right, so you had a lucky guess."  
  
Nellie laughed. "Luck ain't got nothing to do with it. Pure skill."  
  
Munch smiled in spite of himself.  
  
"There was another thing I wanted to ask you," Nellie informed him.  
  
"What's that, kiddo?"  
  
"Did you talk to the People's Attourney about me testifying?" Oh, crap, Munch thought. He'd forgotten all about that.  
  
"No, not yet," Munch said. He heard Nellie sigh. "But I'll see her this afternoon, I promise."  
  
There was a pause.  
  
"But what if she needs me to testify?"  
  
"Then I guess you have to testify."  
  
"John!"  
  
"Look, I don't have all that much control over Casey Novak. She wants you to testify, she's got you. But I'll see what I can do."  
  
Nellie sighed. "Okay. I guess that's all right. Oh, hey, my dad's back. I can go now."  
  
"All right. You take care of yourself."  
  
"Will do. Bye." Click.  
  
When Munch hung up, he found Fin staring at him. "I know I'm handsome, but staring sometimes even makes us gorgeous people uncomfortable, Fin."  
  
"Did I hear right?" Fin asked, ignoring the comment.  
  
"Hear what right?"  
  
"I thought I heard you tell a victim you'd get it so they didn't have to testify." Munch looked away. Here comes trouble. "And, I know that you know that's a really stupid thing to tell a vic."  
  
"She's not a vic," Munch said, quietly. "She's a girl."  
  
"Was she raped?"  
  
"Yes."  
  
"Then she's a vic." Munch glared at him. Fin continued to study him. He wasn't intimidated by his partner, especially since he had just done something really dumb.  
  
Finally, Munch stood up. "I'm going to get lunch. Then I'm talking to Novak."  
  
Fin shook his head as his partner walked away.  
  
August 8, 2004  
  
Casey Novak's Office  
  
1:30 P.M.  
  
Munch walked into the office, unannounced. Casey looked up from a file, saw who it was, and looked back down again.  
  
"Knocking is always a good idea, Detective," she said, simply.  
  
"Nice to see you, too, Counselor," Munch greeted, sitting down opposite her. "I actually needed to call in a favor on the Rivers case."  
  
Casey looked up again, this time intruged. "I wasn't aware I owed you a favor."  
  
"Well, you don't," Munch answered. "But that's never stopped me before. Why start now?"  
  
Casey sighed. "What is it you want?"  
  
"Nellie Rivers doesn't want to testify."  
  
"So you need a subpeona?" casey asked, not fully understanding. "That's a given, Detective."  
  
"No, actually, I was wondering if you could make a case without putitng her on the stand."  
  
"Of course I could," Casey said, "but I'm not going to."  
  
"Why not?"  
  
"She'll get to the jury better than any evidence I can provide. She's the victim here, you know that..."  
  
"She's not a victim!" John said, his voice raising.  
  
"She's a thirteen-year-old girl who was raped," Casey said."  
  
"So, do we really have to put her through that again?"  
  
"John, I think you know the answer to that." Casey sighed. "What's gotten into you?"  
  
"Nothing."  
  
"Look, it's hard to keep your personal feelings out of some cases, I know that..."  
  
"No, see, you don't. You'd have to have feelings for you to understand, wouldn't you, Counselor?"  
  
They glared at each other, they're eyes dueling. They could pratically see the sparks fly between their gazes. Casey breathed in, steadily, trying very hard to control her anger.  
  
"She's going on the stand, Detective," she informed him. "And I suggest you control yourself while she is."  
  
Munch glared at her a little while longer, then stood up, angrily, and huffed out of the office. 


	5. Chapter Five

  
August 10, 2004  
  
The Courthouse  
  
10:00 A.M.  
  
Casey Novak, along with the other people in the courtroom, stood as the Judge entered.  
  
"Be seated," the judge ordered. "Counselors, what have we got today?"  
  
"The alleged rape of Nellie Rivers, thirteen, by Jeffery Grey," Casey explained.  
  
"What is the request for bail?"  
  
"The People request $500,000."  
  
"That's outrageous!" Grey cried.  
  
"Counselor, control your client," the judge reprimanded. J.D. Wynn, the defense attourney, gave Grey a sharp look and he quieted.  
  
"Jeffery Grey is an upstanding member of society," Wynn argued. "He's never had so much as a traffic ticket."  
  
"He also raped his thirteen year old stepdaughter," Casey shot back.  
  
"Allegedly, Miss Novak. Innocent until proven guilty," he reminded. He hit his gavel. "Bail set at $250,000."  
  
The Rivers' Apartment  
  
11:00 A.M.  
  
"What happened?" Nellie asked, opening the door before Munch and Fin had even rung the bell.  
  
"Nothing," Munch said. "We're just here to take you to Miss Novak to be prepped."  
  
Nellie rolled her eyes impatiently. "No! At the trial! What happened at the trial?"  
  
"Sorry, kid, we can't tell you," Fin said.  
  
"Come on! Just tell me if he got bail!"  
  
Fin and Munch gave each other sideways looks. Nellie sighed.  
  
"He did. He'll be out in an hour."  
  
"He won't," Munch said, then thought about it and added, "Two hours, minimum."  
  
"What if he comes after me?"  
  
"He won't."  
  
"I wasn't aware that you were psychic."  
  
"It's a gift," Munch said, sarcastically. "And a curse."  
  
"Mostly a curse," Fin added, recieving a look from Munch.  
  
"We'd better get going," John informed. "Novak gets cranky if we're late."  
  
Nellie followed them out to the car and slid into the back seat. Munch got into the drivers seat and started the car. On the radio was the traffic report.  
  
"Why do you always have this on?" Fin complained.  
  
"I like to know what's going on," Munch answered.  
  
"It's boring," Nellie confirmed. "Can we surf, please, John?"  
  
"You heard the lady," Fin said, his hand already on the dial.  
  
"Fine, but if we get in a traffic jam, it's on your heads," Munch threatened.  
  
"It's New York. The whole city's a damn traffic jam," Fin said, finally stopping on a station playing a rap song. He turned to look at Nellie. "You mind?"  
  
"Knock yourself out."  
  
"Literally," Munch added. "Why do you listen to this crap?"  
  
"It's my heritage."  
  
"Well, my heritage is speaking Yiddish and spinning a dreidle," Munch said. "Don't see me doing that, do you?"  
  
"Not today," Fin said. "The song's changing anyways."  
  
And it was. The D.J. came on. "That was Usher, taking us back to the streets. And now, to give you a little bit of rock, by request, One Thing by Finger Eleven."  
  
"Ooo! I love this song!" Nellie half squealed.  
  
"It's not rap, is it?" Munch asked, skeptically.  
  
"Listen for yourself."  
  
"Not a chance."  
  
"The lyrics are pretty meaningful," Nellie explained. "You've just got your head so far up your-"  
  
"Hey!" Munch exclaimed. Fin was laughing, and it made Munch a little more grumpy. "Why do you like this song so much anyways?"  
  
"You really want to know?"  
  
"Yes, since you're making me listen to it."  
  
"You asked for it," Nellie sighed. "After every rape, I'd put this song on, and it made me feel better. It reminded me why I put myself through it."  
  
"How'd it do that?" Fin asked, interested.  
  
"Chorus is coming up. See for yourself." The detectives did as they were told.  
  
"If I traded it all,  
If I gave it all away,  
For one thing,  
Just for one thing,  
If I sorted it out,  
If I knew all about,  
This one thing,  
Wouldn't that be something?"  
  
"Oh," Munch said. "That's why."  
  
"Yes, that's why. Not all pop culture is crap, John. You just have to give it a chance."  
  
"Okay, I'll admitt it, it's got a slight appeal to my sensitive nature."  
  
"That means he likes it," Fin translated. Munch just rolled his eyes.  
  
August 11, 2004  
  
The Courthouse  
  
9:00 A.M.  
  
"Can you tell us, Nellie, in your own words, what happened on the night of August 6, 2004?" Casey asked, after Nellie had sworn in.  
  
"It was around midnight. I was sleeping, but I woke up when I heard my stepdad say something."  
  
"What did he say?"  
  
"'Rise and shine, Sleeping Beauty,'" Nellie scoffed, disgusted. "He said it like I was supposed to take it like a compliment that he was there at all."  
  
"What happened next, Nellie?"  
  
"I opened my eyes and he was standing over me. He was naked. He pulled back the sheets, took off my clothes and..."  
  
"And what, Nellie?" Casey pressed.  
  
"And he raped me."  
  
"Did you struggle?"  
  
"No, but I did say no. And he punched me in the eye for it."  
  
"Why didn't you struggle? Physically, I mean."  
  
"Jeff told me if I struggled, he'd kill my little brother and sister."  
  
"So you were just trying to protect them?"  
  
"Yes," Nellie said. "I love them. They mean everything to me."  
  
Casey looked at the jury, then the judge. "No further questions."  
  
Wynn stood up. "How old are you, Nellie?"  
  
"Objection!" Casey called, rising from her seat. "Relevance?"  
  
"I'm giving the jury a look into Miss Rivers's life," Wynn told the Judge, who nodded.  
  
"Proceed."  
  
"How old are you?" Wynn repeated.  
  
"I'm thirteen," she answered. "Fourteen in September."  
  
"So, you're a teenager?"  
  
"That's normally what thirteen means."  
  
Casey smirked to herself back at her seat. Munch had told her she could take care of herself...  
  
"What do you like to do, Nellie?"  
  
"Read."  
  
"Do you take any after school courses?"  
  
"I'm on the debate team and I've taken acting lessons for a year."  
  
Wynn smiled. "I spoke with your teacher. She said you were a natural."  
  
Nellie watched him, warily. "Thank you."  
  
"Nellie, do you ever, say, use your acting skills outside of the theatre?"  
  
Nellie smiled wryly. "You mean to I use my powers for evil, instead of good?"  
  
"Highly amusing, Miss Rivers," said Wynn. "But please, just answer the question.  
  
"No, I don't," she answered, still smiling a little.  
  
"You've never been able to get out of something by acting?" At the repeat of the question, Nellie shifted uncomfortably.  
  
"I believe I just answered that question," Nellie said, slightly annoyed.  
  
"Do you and your stepfather ever argue, Miss Rivers?"  
  
"No," Nellie said. "I don't speak to him anymore."  
  
"Never?"  
  
"Unless it can't be helped. Like to pass the salt."  
  
"So it's a rare occasion that you speak?"  
  
Nellie shrugged. "I've grown accustomed to not having salt."  
  
"Could you tell us again what happened on the night in question?"  
  
"Yes. I was asleep in my room when my stepfather came in and raped me."  
  
"With a little more detail, please," Wynn commanded. Nellie sighed.  
  
"He came into my room, said 'Rise and shine, Sleeping Beauty,' like he always does. And then he pulled back the covers, took off my clothes and raped me. Exactly like I told Miss Novak."  
  
"But that's not what really happened, is it?" Wynn said, calmly.  
  
"No, of course not," Nellie said, sarcastically. "I just lied in front of God and everybody twice because I'm a teenager and an actor."  
  
"Miss Rivers," the Judge said, warningly. "The records don't show sarcasm very well."  
  
"Sorry, Your Honor." She turned back to Wynn. "Yes, I was telling the truth."  
  
"You claim he's done this before. Why come forward now?"  
  
"What does that matter? I did come forward. Does it really matter when?"  
  
"When your stepfather and mother were first married, did you and he have a fight?" Wynn asked, calmly.  
  
"What? I... I can't remember. What does that have to do with anything?"  
  
"Do you hold grudges, Miss Rivers?"  
  
Nellie shrugged. "I guess so."  
  
"Do you have a temper?"  
  
"What? Well... I guess I do..."  
  
"Do you hold a grudge against your stepfather?"  
  
"I... I don't know. Yes, I do, I suppose. But wouldn't you?"  
  
"Why do you hold a grudge, Miss Rivers?"  
  
"Gee, I dunno," she said, angrily. "Maybe it has something to do with him raping me!"  
  
"Come now, Miss Rivers, that's not really why you're mad, is it?"  
  
"What else is there to be mad about? He raped me for Christ's sake! Do I have to spell it for you?"  
  
"No, that won't be necessary," Wynn disagreed, still with a calm sort of cockiness in his voice. "What I want you to do is tell the truth."  
  
"I am!"  
  
"Did you or did you not get in an argument with your stepfather?"  
  
"No! Maybe... I don't remember!"  
  
"Which is it, Nellie?" His voice was quiet, almost serene, and the fact that he could do that made Nellie uncomfortable.  
  
"No! We didn't! Just stop asking me! I don't remember!" she shouted.  
  
"You are under oath. Why don't you just come clean?"  
  
"Objection!" Casey shouted, just as NEllie rose out of her seat.  
  
"THERE IS NOTHING FOR ME TO COME CLEAN ABOUT!" she yelled.  
  
The Judge banged his gavel. "Miss Rivers, sit down! There is no need for that. Are you through, Mr. Wynn?"  
  
Nellie sat down, glaring at Wynn. His smirking eyes made contact with her and he stared at her as he responded to the Judge's question. "No further questions, Your Honor."  
  
The Courtroom  
  
10:00 A.M.  
  
The trial was done for the day. Casey gathered up her things. Munch leaned over the bar seperating them.  
  
"How could you let him ask her those things?" he demanded.  
  
"I did object, or were you asleep for that?"  
  
"It took you long enough!"  
  
"John, there's no way any jury's going to believe that shit," Fin said, putting his hand on Munch's shoulder.  
  
"I don't give a damn if the jury believes that! The fact that she had to take that crap..."  
  
"John," said a voice behind them. He turned to see Nellie standing in the aisle, just looking at them. "I can take care of myself."  
  
"Sorry. I was just.."  
  
"You were what? Trying to play the hero?"  
  
"What?"  
  
"Just stay out of it!"  
  
"Look, Nellie, this guy deserves to burn in hell!"  
  
"Yeah, and you can go with him for all I care! Just quit..." she searched for the words, angrily. "...trying to protect me!"  
  
She turned away and stormed out of the courtroom.  
  
"What was that about?" Casey asked.  
  
"Novak, for once in your life," Munch told her, "shut the hell up."  
  
A/N: Hope you like this trial scene better than the other one. It's better, but I'm not sure if it's perfect yet... Any feedback is welcome! Unless it's mean and then I cry... Boo-who 


	6. Chapter Six

  
August 12, 2004  
  
The Station House  
  
7:00 P.M.  
  
Munch wasn't talking.  
  
If that wasn't weird enough, he was actually filing a report.  
  
Without complaining.  
  
Needless to say, the other detectives were very worried.  
  
"I'm getting coffee," Elliot announced. "Want some, John?"  
  
"No."  
  
"You sure?"  
  
"Yes."  
  
"All right then. What about you guys?" Olivia and Fin both nodded, and Elliot went to get the cups, with a worried glance back at Munch.  
  
Cragen walked out of his office and stared at the detectives working diligently at their desks without the usual banter. It was strange them all being so quiet. He then realized Munch wasn't talking. It about gave him a heart attack.  
  
"What's wrong, John?" Cragen asked. When Munch didn't answer, Fin explained.  
  
"Had a little run-in with Nellie Rivers."  
  
"Shut up," Munch snapped.  
  
"Just tryin' to help, man."  
  
"Well, don't."  
  
"John, stop it," Cragen ordered. "This isn't Fin's fault... whatever 'this' is, exactly."  
  
Elliot chose this time to come back with three cups of coffee and sensed the tension.  
  
"Something happen?" he asked Olivia. She shook her head, warning him not to ask. He nodded, distriputed the coffee, and started to sit down when his cell phone rang. He sighed, stood up, and answered.  
  
"Stabler... okay, calm down, tell me what happened... All right, we'll be over in a few minutes. Just calm down and get yourself and Laila out of the apartment... Go to your neighbors', can you do that?... All right, we'll be right there... Okay, he'll come, I promise... Okay... Good-bye."  
  
All the detectives and Cragen were staring at him as he hung up. Their eyes showed fear that they were trying to mask. Elliot gave them all a meaningful look.  
  
"It's Nellie," Munch guessed, his voice and face showing no emotion. "Something happened to her."  
  
"No, she's fine," Elliot said. Munch allowed himself to breath in with relief, but Elliot wasn't finished. "It's her brother."  
  
Outside the Rivers' Apartment Building  
  
7:30 P.M.  
  
The lights on the squad cars were flashing. A body was being pulled out to an ambulance on a stretcher, but the blanket was already pulled up over his face. Munch surveyed the scene, his face deviod of expression. Olivia put her hand on his shoulder. He brushed it away.  
  
Suddenly, he heard someone shouting his name, and he turned to the steps, where Nellie was running from the grasp of the medical examiners towards him. She wrapped her arms around him, sobbing uncontrollably. After a while, he noticed she was saying something, but it was a little muffled against his jacket.  
  
"I'm sorry. I'm sorry for everything I said. I shouldn't have.. I'm sorry..."  
  
"It's okay, Nellie," Munch comforted. "I'm not angry, it's okay.  
  
"I'm so sorry... It's all my fault.. It's all my fault..."  
  
"No," he said, firmly. "Everything's going to be okay. It's gonna be okay..."  
  
The Station House  
  
8:00 P.M.  
  
"Nellie, you have to tell us what happened," Elliot told the girl. She had a blanket wrapped around her and she was shivering. It was warm in the interrogation room, but she had told the detectives she was cold.  
  
"It's all my fault... All my fault..." That was all they could get out of her.  
  
Outside the room, looking through the two way mirror, Matthew Rivers paced.  
  
"She's in pain," he said. "Can't you let me take her home?"  
  
"For one thing," Munch said, "you're home is a crime scene. For another, she's not hurt. We need to get this information as soon as possible."  
  
Matthew eyed him. "Are you Detective Munch?"  
  
Munch nodded.  
  
"She talks about you all the time," he informed John. "She seems to think you're her friend. Huh, guess she was wrong."  
  
"What's that mean?"  
  
"You don't care about her at all! You're just going to let them put her through this?"  
  
"Sir, he's only doing his job," Cragen explained. "We need to find the person who did this to your son."  
  
Matthew looked at the ground and shook his head.  
  
In the room, Elliot and Olivia were getting no where.  
  
"Would you feel more comfortable talking to someone else, Nellie? Like John?" Olivia asked.  
  
"No! I don't want to talk to John!" She screeched. Elliot gave Olivia a wondering look.  
  
"Why not?" he asked. "Weren't you friends?"  
  
"Yes, but he hates me. I know he does. After I told him to go to hell and everything.. And now my brothers dead all because of me, and I'm sure he hates me. I'm sure..."  
  
"He doesn't hate you," Olivia consoled. "And this wasn't your fault. Could you just tell us what happened, Nellie? You must know something."  
  
Nellie sniffed. "I took Laila out for something to eat. There wasn't anything in the house and she was hungry. James wasn't. He stayed home. He's only six. I shouldn't have let him stay home all alone... I should have made him come..."  
  
"Nellie, this isn't your fault," Olvia said again.  
  
"NO! IT IS! When I came home, he was standing over James's body, holding a bloody knife from our own kitchen. Then he saw me and grinned... It was horrible... I just wanted to kill him... but he ran away. He ran down the fire escape, before I could do anything. Before I could protect James... It's my fault... It's all my fault..."  
  
"Did you recognize the man you saw over your brother's body?" Elliot asked.  
  
"Y-yes... but I can't tell you. He'll come after Laila. He'll kill her, too. I can't lose her. I can't..."  
  
"He won't get your sister, Nellie," Olivia promised. This just made Nellie even more distraught.  
  
"That's what you said when I reported the rape! And look what happened! This is all my fault! I told and now he killed James to get back at me!" Her head collapsed into her hands and she cried. Olivia put a hand on her shoulder.  
  
"Nellie, are you saying your stepfather did this?" she asked.  
  
"I can't tell you! It's my fault... everything's my fault..."  
  
"No, this isn't your fault, Nellie," Elliot said, but he said it forcefully. "It's not, okay? This is Jeff Grey's fault. And he's going to jail for life. This is not your fault."  
  
"WOULD YOU STOP SAYING THAT!?" Nellie screeched. "It IS my fault. I killed him! He would still be alive if I hadn't come here at all! So don't tell me I didn't do it! Because I did!"  
  
"Were you holding the knife?" Elliot asked. "Were you standing over his body? Were you the one who raped a thirteen year old girl? No, you weren't. So this is NOT your fault, okay?"  
  
Nellie stared at him for a while, and he could tell she was on the brink of tears. "Detective, I can't do this. I can't live without my little brother. He and Laila were everything to me. I wouldn't be able to live if anything happened to Laila. Everything I've ever had in my life has been taken away from me. All I have is Laila. And it can't be coincidence. I had to have done something wrong. Some how this is some way to get back at me for something I did. I deserve this, I must, or it wouldn't happen. But James didn't. James was a little boy, the sweetest person you'd ever meet, and now he's dead, and the only reason I didn't kill myself in that apartment was because I still have Laila to think about and I could never do that to her. So, please, don't ask me to give the last thing that means anything to me away by telling you that Jeff did it. You can find out for yourselves. But I'm not going to be the one to tell you... I won't be reponsible for another person's death." 


	7. Chapter Seven

* * *

  
**August 13, 2004  
  
The Station House  
  
9:30 A.M.**

* * *

The three detectives passed Munch's desk on their way out ot the trial. He noticed Munch was still working on something, and it didn't seem like he intended to move. Elliot raised an eyebrow at the others.  
  
"John?" he said. Munch looked up. "You coming?"  
  
"Wasn't planning on it. I have to finish this."  
  
"Um... oooookaaay," Olivia said, confused. "You do know it's _Nellie's_ trial? You know... the little girl who adores you?"  
  
"Well, I have to finish this," he said. "Just... go without me."  
  
The detectives exchanged looks again.  
  
"You know what? I forgot I had another report to file, so you guys go," Fin instructed. Elliot and Olivia nodded, seeing his point. He wanted to talk to John alone. They left, quickly.  
  
"I'll take care of it," Munch offered, knowing perfectly well that there was no report.  
  
"No, I'm not too interested in what Grey has to say 'bout this," Fin said. "It's his day to testify."  
  
"He's showing up?" Munch asked. "After what he did?"  
  
"He claims he didn't do it," Fin said. "Nellie's mom gives him an alibi, and without Nellie's testimony, the weapon, or fingerprints anywhere, he's probably not gonna get pinned for it."  
  
Munch sighed. "Damn it."  
  
"Damn straight," Fin agreed. They sat in silence, Fin working on a completely fabricated report about why a pickle shouldn't be eaten after ice cream (it was the first thing that popped into his head). Finally, Fin began pestering Munch, as John had known he would, eventually.  
  
"Why ain't you goin'?" he asked.  
  
"You mean why _aren't_ I going?" Munch asked. Fin rolled his eyes.  
  
"Cut the grammar lesson, Professor," Fin demanded. "Just tell me what's goin' on with you."  
  
"I have a report to file Fin," Munch said, simply.  
  
"So this has nothin' to do with your personal feelings?"  
  
"Exactly. That's the point. I let my feelings get in the way, and this is what happened. Just... nevermind."  
  
"So you think this is your fault, too?" Fin rolled his eyes, again. "Man, how many vics gotta be raped for you to know that it's the perp's fault?"  
  
"I said nevermind!" John snapped.  
  
"Well I'm not going to!" Fin shouted back. "This is stupid, John, and you know it!"  
  
"Look, I let my personal feelings get involved. Again. I got hurt. Again. You'd think I'd learn. I didn't. I'm paying for it."  
  
"_You're_ paying for it? _You're_ paying? Last time I checked, _you_ weren't the one with a dead little brother. Last time I checked, _you_ weren't the one who was raped. That was Nellie. And Nellie is probably scared as hell right now. So, if I were you, I'd get my bony ass down to that courtroom. But I'm not you. And I don't think I want to be. You're just a selfish bastard who thinks he's the victim. Well, we've got real victims, and one of 'em reached out for you, and you're pushin' her away. Like you do with everything."  
  
Munch glared. He found himself glaring a lot. And it was mostly when another perosn was right. This time, Fin was more right than he'd ever been.  
  
"What do you want me to do Fin?" Munch finally asked.  
  
"Thought I made that obvious."

* * *

**Outside the Courthouse  
  
10:00 A.M.**

* * *

John stepped out his car and surveyed the area. Some people were walking down the steps, some up. A couple were walking around the sidewalk aimlessly. One girl was sitting on the steps, her knees drawn up to her chest, and her eyes closed, as if hoping that she wouldn't be seen. Munch recognized her immediately and went to stand over her.  
  
"Nellie? What are you doing out here?" he asked. "Grey's about to testify."  
  
"John? You... you came. Why?" she asked, ignoring his questions.  
  
"Because I enjoy the fresh New York air, and where better to get some than outside a courthouse while a rape trial's going on?" he replied, sarcastically. She looked to the sky and sighed.  
  
"You're a woman," she said, as if speaking to God. "Why are you doing this to me?"  
  
"I wasn't aware God was woman, but sure, why not?" Munch said, sitting down beside her.  
  
"Exactly. Why shouldn't She be a Woman?"  
  
"Technically, God doesn't have a gender," Munch said. She eyed him warily.  
  
"You don't seem like a very religious kind of guy to me," Nellie observed.  
  
"I grew up Jewish," he explained. "Hated it though. God never did a damn thing for me, why should I worship his every move?"  
  
"Never did anything, huh?" she said, looking away, sadly. "So, what am I, chopped liver?"  
  
"Oh, come on, you know what I mean."  
  
"No, _Detective_, I don't," she snapped, turning around again, to send him a glare.  
  
"What happened to reading me like a book?" he asked, ignoring the glare. She looked straight down at the steps. Her brow creased, as if concentrating, trying to read the words that she must have thought were incripted in the concrete.  
  
"Things change, John," she said, finally. "Everything does."  
  
John watched her, not knowing what to make of her. She was small and yet so strong. So much stronger than a lot of the other victims he was used to. He hadn't known why he had gotten angry when someone called her a victim until now. It was because she wouldn't have wanted to be known as a victim. She wanted to be strong, and she didn't want to be dismissed as some weak person who couldn't take care of herself. But as John looked at her, read her face, he realized that she was a victim. She was a little girl, innocent and afraid. Just needed someone to comfort her. Unfortunately, Munch wasn't sure if he was the best person to do that.  
  
"I don't know what to say to you," he said, finally.  
  
"Why? You've never had a problem before."  
  
"That's because _you_ were helping _me_," he explained. "Now, I'm supposed to comfort you, and I'm not good with that. I'm not good with a lot of things."  
  
She shifted her gaze to watch him. "Really? Because I think you did just fine."  
  
John smiled at her, and stood up, with some difficulty. "Are we going in or what?"  
  
Nellie shrugged, still on the steps. "I'm not sure. I don't want to see him anymore, but I don't want _him_ to know that."  
  
"I'll be right there. If you want to leave, you can tell me, and we'll go, okay?" She thought about it for a minute, then stood next to him.  
  
"All right, I guess."  
  
"Good. Let's go." 


End file.
